


I fake my life like I bleed, too much

by ElasticElla



Series: drabble the halls [3]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alcohol, Christmas, Episode: s03e01 We're Good People Now, F/F, Light Angst, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 17:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9081622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: It's only been a week since Annalise gave the informal invitation, and Michaela's already knocking on her door.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doctorkaitlyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/gifts).



> so I pushed 3.01 into late December for xmas reasons  
> title from sneaker pimps' 6 underground  
> ([i tumble ^.^](http://bizeke.tumblr.com/))

It's only been a week since Annalise gave the informal invitation, and Michaela's already knocking on her door. There's no way this is a healthy place to get drunk, way too much history seeped into it, but Michaela's mind is no better, and if she can't escape the mental why even bother with the physical?

“Miss Pratt,” Annalise says, door inching open, “it's late.” 

Michaela wants to roll her eyes, needs to lose her sobriety asap. “You said to come here if I needed to get drunk, I'm here.” 

“I said to call,” Annalise corrects, but she opens the door fully anyways and Michaela enters. 

Annalise points her to the cabinet, sitting down with her own half-empty glass of vodka. “What happened to visiting your family for the holidays?” 

“I lied,” Michaela says simply, pouring herself a tall glass of bourbon. 

Annalise eyes her, a small quirk on her lips, “Remind me to hide the expensive bottles next time you come over.” 

“It's the holidays,” Michaela retorts, taking a deep gulp and glancing around the bare room. “Not that you'd know it.” 

“You wanna decorate this house? Be my guest, there are some boxes in the kitchen.” 

Michaela shrugs, and not having anything better to say or being drunk enough to handle the approaching awkward silence, she goes to the kitchen. Sure enough, there are three large cardboard boxes- all open, but otherwise untouched, filled to the brim with decorations. 

Decorating the house feels more like giving a client a makeover than playing Christmas elf, and Michaela's already refilled her glass before the second box is empty. Annalise deigns to help with the third, her movements slow and sure as she puts things up in their proper place. She doesn't actually move any of the stuff Michaela's done- though it's even more obvious with Annalise's placements that her decorations are in the wrong spots. The empty boxes are tossed down the basement stairs, and they're back in the newly festive living room, glasses topped off. 

Annalise clinks her glass, “I'll admit the house looks less depressing.” 

“Wow,” Michaela says dryly, “two compliments in one week.” 

Annalise snorts, “Fishing are we?” 

There's a time when Michaela would have memorized that reaction, categorized and learned it, filed it under _Becoming Annalise 2.0_. Those days have long since passed, but she still catches herself on old habits, like watching the exact degree of curvature Annalise puts into a barely there smile. 

“You can come closer,” Annalise says, setting down her glass. 

It feels out of the blue, and Michaela snaps out of it, meeting her eyes. 

“You need to work on your subtlety,” she says with an expectant look. 

Michaela blushes hard and fast, thankful it won't show. “I um,” she starts, and the words die in her throat, thick and undecided. 

Annalise doesn't seem bothered though, blinks slowly. “There's a guest room upstairs, if you're not going to join me you should retire before you drink enough to change your mind.” 

It completely throws Michaela off balance- that wasn't why she came here or watched, and another glass wasn't going to change that. But she also doesn't want to leave and Annalise might not be her transformative goal anymore, she's still curious about the Annalise without masks or pretenses. 

Curiosity would get her killed, her mother had always said and perhaps that more than anything, that thought makes Michaela stay. 

“Alright.” 

Annalise's smile is softer than she's ever seen, but her lips are sharp, devour her whole.


End file.
